Beati Quorum Via Integra Est
by SeenaC
Summary: Case-fic. Mycroft obtains Sherlock's help in solving the murder of a young woman at the London Aquarium. Written for the lovely and talented Khorazir. Not related to my other Sherlock stories. See A/N for details.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a story I've been promising to write for Khorazir FOREVER! This is based on her wonderful illustration of Sherlock and John at the London Aquarium. You can find it on her tumblr for Nov. 1 of 2011. The plot is borrowed, see details below. This is a case-fic and is unrelated to any of my other Sherlock stories.

**Warnings:** Hints of slash (pre-slash?), but nothing overt.

**Disclaimer:** Almost nothing here is mine. The inspiration comes from Khorazir's lovely illustration. The characters belong to ACD/BBC. The plot is adapted from an old "Hawaii 5-0" (1969) episode written by John D. F. Black and Leonard Freeman. I am doing this strictly for fun and as a labor of love and respect for the works I am using. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.

**Beta: **The always wonderful Jarri Scythe.

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est - 1

Detective Inspector Lestrade stood glumly by the body of the young woman. He knew that every human life was precious, but couldn't help feeling especially depressed over the untimely, cruel deaths of those who should have had so much more to experience. Her smooth, beautiful face seemed to promise a bright future, but her eyes were now forever shut on a world that would never hear her voice again.

Lestrade rubbed his face and scolded himself internally. It was too early in the morning to be getting so maudlin, especially when he was apparently going to have to deal with the Holmes brothers on this case. Mr. Mysteriously Omniscient Mycroft Holmes himself had called Lestrade at home at 6:30 that morning to inform him of the murder and that Sherlock would be along to help with the "legwork." Apparently "legwork" was Holmes-code for anything that required leaving one's office.

Lestrade had dutifully hurried to the crime scene, the London Aquarium. Apparently the victim was a member of their staff, discovered by another. Lestrade couldn't imagine what Mycroft's interest in the case might be. As far as the detective knew, the aquarium was just that, not any kind of front for top secret government research or anything.

Lestrade had arrived to find, to his great surprise, the Man Himself was already there, though remaining inside of his car, parked a little ways away from the Thames. Presumably, he was waiting for his younger brother to show. After staring at the car for a moment and getting no response, Lestrade shrugged his shoulders and walked over to the pedestrian way leading to the aquarium.

Once inside the building, Lestrade was led by a policeman to the victim in the back area, which was off limits to the public, near the huge tank with the hammerhead sharks. Her slight figure was obscured somewhat by the coveralls she was wearing, probably the standard gear for those working to care for the animals behind the scenes. Her long, dark hair pooled on the floor around her.

After speaking to the policemen who had responded to the initial alarm, Lestrade called Sherlock to see if he was on his way. Mycroft had made it clear that he wanted Sherlock to observe the scene before the official forensics team got there. Lestrade had grumbled about this, despite knowing it would get him nowhere.

Sherlock didn't answer his phone, but after leaving an impatient message Lestrade got a text back.

_On my way - SH_

Sherlock and John took a cab together to the Aquarium in silence.

John was intensely curious, but any attempt to get Sherlock to speculate about a case was never successful. He couldn't help doing it himself, though. He wondered what could have possibly happened at the London Aquarium that would be of such interest to Mycroft that he would bring in Sherlock for assistance. He also wondered how Mycroft could have convinced Sherlock to cooperate so easily. Theoretically, this case must be puzzling, otherwise it would have taken a battle royale to move Sherlock to do his brother's bidding.

It was the sheer novelty of the situation that convinced John to dress hurriedly in order to take up Sherlock's offer to accompany him on the early morning excursion.

Sherlock's phone began to ring. Sherlock looked at the number, grimaced, and rejected the call. A minute later the phone beeped to signal a voicemail. Sherlock sighed, and without listening to the message, sent a brief text.

The taxi pulled up behind a distinctly familiar, large black car. Sherlock was out of the taxi in a flash, turning his collar up against the early morning drizzle, leaving John to pay the cabbie, as usual.

Once John had finished, he turned to see that Mycroft had emerged from his car and was speaking to Sherlock. He hurried over to join the two brothers.

"If it weren't terrible enough that a young woman has been murdered, it was one of the students of the Institute," Mycroft was saying from underneath his umbrella.

"Good morning, John," Mycroft said, giving him a tight smile.

"Morning, Mycroft. What's this about a murder?"

"A student from the British International Institute has been murdered," Mycroft said. John couldn't remember him ever sounding so glum.

"I've never heard of it."

Mycroft sighed.

Sherlock took over, "It's a pet project of Mycroft's. An attempt to build bridges, through education, with students from Britain, other countries, and cultures. At least, that's the official word."

Mycroft looked angry, "Sherlock, you agreed."

"Yes, yes, your school is a beacon of light and hope in the world full of darkness and despair, so we must attempt to save its reputation from being besmirched by this most inconvenient murder."

Mycroft cleared his throat loudly and quickly said, "The identity of the victim has not been officially confirmed yet. If it is indeed one of our students, we need to make sure that this is handled with the utmost care and discretion. Keep me informed."

"Right," Sherlock replied curtly, then turned to John, "shall we?"

John nodded farewell to Mycroft who smiled politely in return as he lowered his umbrella to get back into his car.

Sherlock was striding quickly towards the Aquarium, and John hurried after him.

TBC

**A/N:** Ok, I'll admit, I'm kind of tying in the idea of Mycroft's "Institute" with some of the background stuff from "The Enemy of My Enemy." My idea is that Alisha was a graduate of the Institute. :-)

But other than that, there's no connection to any of my other Sherlock stories. Feedback, as always, is treasured!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the support of this story! Now that spring semester is over, I hope to be able to write with more frequency!

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est – 2

As they made their way to the aquarium, John continued to indulge his curiosity.

"So, what is this institute of Mycroft's?"

Sherlock sighed, "It's one of his many government projects. The Institute recruits various international students, and British students with interests in international affairs. The students come from various universities around the country, but mostly from London. They take various courses together, political science mostly, as well as collaborate on various projects. It's all part of what Mycroft calls 'soft power,' and strengthening British ties with countries around the world. After they graduate from university, the international students go home with fond ties to Britain. The British students tend to migrate into government jobs that can utilize their expertise and foreign contacts."

"I can see why the murder of one of the students would be a severe blow to its reputation," mused John, "what I can't figure out is why you agreed to assist Mycroft in solving it."

Sherlock gave John one of his more unsettling grins, "Oh, Mycroft made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Which was?"

"After this, he will owe me a favor! This is something not to be missed. Plus, it may turn out to be a case of interest. We'll soon find out."

"That's it? You did it for a favor? That doesn't seem very typical of you."

Sherlock scoffed, "Use your imagination, John. A man with Mycroft's power and influence? I intend to take full advantage of his debt to me, when I choose to collect on it."

By this time they had come to the door of the aquarium. Apparently, they were expected because a policeman opened the door before Sherlock was able to knock. They were taken quickly back to where Lestrade was waiting beside the young woman's body. Before entering the area, Sherlock scanned space and studied the floor carefully as he stepped gingerly over toward the Detective Inspector.

"Lestrade, be sure and have electrostatic footprints lifted before any more of your buffalo tromp through here," he said. "With the rain last night, even Anderson might be able to lift something of importance, particularly here – and over here." Sherlock pointed at various smudges on the floor.

Lestrade grimaced but said, "Thanks for coming out so early."

Sherlock waved impatiently, "So what have you learned so far?

"Right," replied Lestrade, "according to her fellow staffers who found her: she's a student, Indonesian citizen, twenty-one, and female; looks like she died by strangulation. Her purse was in her locker with money in it, ID says her name is Mira Bai. That hasn't been officially verified yet. We'll have her positively identified once she's transported from the scene."

Sherlock nodded then turned to John, "Would you mind taking a look?"

John knelt by the body, filled with an odd mixture of emotions. He was used to death, both as a doctor and a soldier. He was always pleased to be able to apply his expertise on behalf of Sherlock, and was always warmed by his approbation. However, he felt a slight twinge of guilt over feeling pleased to be afforded such an opportunity. The poor girl was dead, after all!

He pushed his moral quandary aside and focused on examining the body in front of him. He was careful and as thorough as he could be, without having any proper equipment. After some minutes he stood and gave Sherlock and Lestrade his conclusions.

"Right, well, of course an autopsy will need to be done to get the finer details, but from the marks on her neck, it looks like the attacker grabbed her by the throat, from the front, and choked her."

"With one hand?" Sherlock questioned as he knelt beside the body and began examining her neck with his magnifying glass.

"Yes, just like this," John demonstrated, grabbing his own throat and squeezing the two sides between his thumb on one and his fingers on the other.

"Yes," Sherlock murmured, "there's a single mark under her left ear below the jawbone, and three – no – four on the other side. He practically left fingerprints."

"Any other marks?" asked Lestrade.

"I didn't see any," said John.

"None," confirmed Sherlock standing up.

He glanced around the area surrounding the tank, "Did any of the staff report anything out of place? Any sign of a struggle?"

"No," said Lestrade.

"Be sure and question them carefully on that. Let me know if they report anything missing or out of place."

Sherlock then spent the next half hour carefully studying the floor and other surfaces of the room, including the glass of the aquarium tank. He pointed out several footprints and other marks on the floor that he indicated Anderson should document.

"Don't let any of the staff leave before you take their shoe prints," he stressed.

"Yes, Sherlock," Lestrade agreed tiredly.

"Once you've confirmed her identity, round up as many of her friends as you can find. I'll want to talk with them."

"Sherlock, I can't let you interrogate suspects," protested Lestrade.

"Right now we have no suspects," countered Sherlock, "I'm hoping to find one for you."

"I can't let you have free reign over a police investigation."

"Lestrade, just listen for a moment. You aren't going to take the fall for this one if anything goes wrong. If I fail, it won't be on your head, it'll be on my brother's. So just relax and trust me."

Lestrade still looked mutinous.

"If you have a problem, take it up with Mycroft. If he tells me to quit my investigation, I will. Until then, I suggest you cooperate with us."

Those seemed to be the magic words, because the fight went out of Lestrade's eyes immediately and he placed the call to bring in Anderson and the rest of the forensics team.

"Text me once you have a positive ID," Sherlock called as he left while beckoning John to come with him.

Lestrade acknowledged him with a wave.

Once in the taxi headed back to Baker Street, John attempted to get Sherlock to speak about the case. It wasn't always easy, as Sherlock often protested that he didn't like to speculate without facts. However, John felt confident in the medical evidence that he had seen for himself. It gave him an opening.

"Judging by the spread of the finger-marks, I'd say we're looking for a pretty big, strong man."

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, able to grab a woman and hold her one-handed and squeeze the life out of her. There are also some fairly large footprints on the floor, if Anderson is competent enough to retrieve them."

"Anyone meet that description on the staff of the aquarium?"

Sherlock sighed, "I'm counting on Lestrade to be able to figure that much out. If not, of course I'll look into it. And by me looking into it, I mean you."

Sherlock smiled at John.

John rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to my always wonderful beta: Jarri Scythe!

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est – 3

Several hours later Sherlock was on his way to Scotland Yard. He was alone as John had gone to pull a shift at the clinic.

In the hours since their ride earlier together the victim had been confirmed as Mira Bai, Mycroft had undertaken the duty of informing her family and their country's government, while Lestrade had assembled all of her closest associates for Sherlock to interview.

Sherlock was losing hope that the case would prove to be of much interest. Ms. Bai had been close to finishing her degree in Marine Biology at the National Oceanography Centre in Southampton. After being recruited into Mycroft's Institute, she had taken an internship at the London Aquarium so she could continue her studies in both areas.

She had a clean record and her academic career had been brilliant. Why would anyone kill her? She didn't appear to be a person of any particular interest. Had she stumbled on to something by accident? The method of her murder was suspiciously like the handiwork of the Golem, but he only killed for hire. What could Mira Bai possibly be involved with that would merit assassination?

Sherlock pushed his thoughts aside as he arrived at Scotland Yard. He wanted to keep his mind open and unbiased whilst meeting her friends and classmates.

He made his way to Lestrade's office and was intercepted by Sergeant Donovan, looking just as pleased to see him as he was her.

"Hello Sally."

"Hello Freak."

"Lestrade wanted to see me."

"Yeah, well, he's in with the girl's friends. They've all had quite a shock. Try not to make it worse for them than it already is."

"I am attempting to identify her murderer. I am sure her friends will want to assist me in that."

Donovan's mouth tightened into a grim line.

Sherlock sighed impatiently, "If you could take me to them?"

Donovan spun around and marched away, her hair swinging angrily behind her.

Sherlock followed her to the press briefing room where a small crowd was gathered. Lestrade was speaking quietly to a group of young women huddled anxiously around him. As soon as he heard the door open and saw Sherlock enter, he quickly straightened and began speaking to the room.

"As I told you all before, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes who is assisting us with this case. It would be greatly appreciated by both Scotland Yard and the Institute if you would give him your full cooperation."

"Thank you, Detective Inspector," Sherlock said as he joined Lestrade at the front of the room.

He turned and quickly scanned the group who gazed back at him with varying degrees of fear and wariness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I understand that Detective Inspector Lestrade has informed all of you of the murder of Ms. Mira Bai which took place at the London Aquarium last night. You can best help me by telling me about Ms. Bai, her friends, activities, anything. If any of you were with her yesterday, before or after she arrived at the Aquarium, could you please come forward so that I can speak with you first?"

A handful of people, students, judging by their age, shuffled almost reluctantly forward.

"Thank you," Sherlock said to them, and then turned to Lestrade. "I'll speak to them one at a time; can you send them in to me as you see each one leave?"

"Yeah, sure, use the room next door."

Sherlock turned to the first young woman who had come forward, "Come with me, please."

She was clearly nervous, and Sherlock attempted to smile at her reassuringly as he ushered her in to the small interview room next door and had her sit down.

"What is your name, please?" Sherlock began.

"Maako," the girl replied, her brown eyes huge and frightened.

Sherlock slipped into his kind, empathetic mode, and gentled his voice, "Where are you from, Maako?"

"Tonga," she replied.

"Oh! I've heard Tonga's lovely. Never had the chance to go yet, but I hope to someday," Sherlock smiled.

The girl smiled back, shyly warming to him.

"Now, I am sorry but I have to ask you about your friend…."

A few hours later Sherlock closed his eyes as the last of the students left. He was quickly arranging all of his newly learned facts into his mind palace when he heard the door to the room open.

"Hello Lestrade," he said to the familiar pattern of footsteps as they entered the room and closed the door behind them.

"Well? What have you got for us?"

Sherlock opened one eye, "Pretty much what you would have, working on your own. This is likely to be a fairly simple case."

"OK, give."

"Mira Bai was universally liked, friends with just about every student and teacher at the Institute. After classes yesterday, she and her boyfriend, a fellow student, attended an informal party held by some other students."

"The boyfriend's name?"

"John Hayes: UK citizen, twenty-five, blond, almost two meters tall. Athletic, good looking, not a mean bone in his body and madly in love with Mira. The two were inseparable."

"Huh," Lestrade mused, "he wasn't here today."

"No; no one has seen him since last night."

"Interesting."

"Quite. The two of them arrived at the party and were having a good time for a few hours, according to fellow party-goers. But then, something went wrong. Mira was seen to be upset and fled the party, John pursued her. That was the last any of this group saw of either one."

"What time did they leave the party?"

"According to the witnesses, about 8pm."

"And Mira is found dead in the Aquarium at 5am by the morning crew, apparently strangled by a large man."

"Meanwhile, John Hayes is nowhere to be found."

"Sounds like an easy case," Lestrade said glumly.

Sherlock chuckled darkly, "I thought I was the one who lamented easy cases."

Lestrade shot him a disgusted look, "I'm not upset that it's an easy one. I just find the particulars saddening."

Sherlock shrugged, "Most murders are crimes of passion – of one sort or another. It's an entirely different and rarer breed of crime that is done in cold blood."

Lestrade only sighed.

Sherlock clapped him on the shoulder, "Take heart, my dear inspector, perhaps our missing John Hayes is only lying low because he knows he is the likely suspect, but truly is innocent. After all, he can't be the only large man in London."

Lestrade snorted, "Sherlock, no matter how you slice it, there's no happy ending here."

Sherlock started to reply, but he seemed to hear John's voice in his head whispering, "a bit not good." So he shut his mouth.

Lestrade looked at him quizzically. He could never recall Sherlock changing his mind about uttering a comment, ever.

After waiting a moment, Lestrade said, "All right then, I'll start looking for John Hayes."

Sherlock nodded, "That's what I would do."

He stood up and followed Lestrade out of the interview room. They were met by Sally Donovan, looking rather breathless.

"Sir," she said to Lestrade, "a man just arrived, wants to speak with you. Says he's Mira Bai's boyfriend – John Hayes. I have him in another interview room; he's in a right state."

Lestrade and Sherlock looked at each other, Sherlock shrugged, "Well, that was easy."

TBC

A/N: Remember, reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Although this story is independent of my other Sherlock stories, I think I should specify that it is a pre-Reichenbach story in the BBC "Sherlock" universe. Also, this chapter breaks about a million rules about police procedure. My humble excuse is that it's all down to Mycroft and his ability to operate above the law when it suits his purposes.

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est - 4

"Dear God in heaven, no... It can't be... No, please no... It can't be..."

Sherlock sighed inwardly. This was getting tedious.

"No, please no... Please - God..."

Sherlock valiantly resisted rolling his eyes. The man was _crying _now.

"No!"

John Hayes collapsed into sobs.

Sherlock wasn't quite as talented as his brother in reading people, but he was fairly certain the grief wasn't faked - unless he was an exceptionally skilled actor. Frankly, Sherlock would have respected him more if he had been faking.

What was the use in tears _now?_ If John Hayes was innocent in Mira Bai's death, this effusion was a waste of time. If someone had killed...someone important to Sherlock, he certainly wouldn't be blubbing in Scotland Yard, he be out hunting the killer down and ensuring that their life was short and their death long and painful.

Sherlock caught Lestrade's eye. Lestrade gave a slight shrug. Clearly, the inspector had no intention of putting an end to this shameful scene. Sherlock, though, had had enough.

He pulled up his email, where he was pleased to see that a preliminary report had come through on the victim's body. He had requested that Mycroft forward him all information as soon as it was available. He began to read parts of it aloud for the benefit of both Lestrade and Hayes.

"One set of strangulation marks on victim's throat. No evidence of sexual assault. Time of death - 23:40 plus or minus five minutes."

That seemed to finally shock Hayes into silence.

"Now," Sherlock continued, happy to finally have some semblance of focus in his subject, "you and Mira went to a party last night. Her roommate said you were late picking her up, why?"

"I was, er... I was shopping."

Hayes began fumbling about his person as he continued his rambling, "I, er... bought her an engagement ring."

He drew out the small jewelry box, opened it, and presented it to Sherlock.

Sherlock backed away slightly, mildly unsettled by the gesture and the pain in Hayes' blue eyes.

"I couldn't kill her. I couldn't even hurt her," the distraught man insisted.

Sherlock ignored the odd sensation in his gut and continued his questioning, "What time did you pick her up?"

"Seven-thirty, I think."

"And then you went to the party?"

"Yeah."

"What time did you get there?"

"About eight. Maybe a little after."

"And the argument you had with Mira - did it start at the party?"

"It wasn't an argument," protested Hayes.

"Some people saw you sitting off to the side with your voices raised. She was then seen running out of the flat, crying."

"I told you - it wasn't an argument! I wanted to marry her!"

Hayes shook the little box at Sherlock for emphasis.

"And she didn't want to marry you?"

"No! She did!"

"So it was a happy ending - eh? I'm confused."

"No! She, er...Well, you see - we finish the Institute this term. I have a job waiting for me - teaching."

"Where?" asked Sherlock.

"At home, in York."

_Explains the atrocious accent,_ thought Sherlock.

"I wanted Mira to marry me and come home with me...and she said she couldn't, she had to go back to Indonesia."

"Well that shouldn't have come as any surprise. Her student visa would have expired when her studies were completed."

Hayes shook his head, "No, that wasn't it. Her father has a small grocery... no money... She - she came here to learn and to take back what she learned - home with her...to stay. She said she had to. She said she'd make a liar and a cheat of herself... a thief - if she'd stolen all that education and... wasted it."

Hayes again locked his blue eyes onto Sherlock, his hurt and confusion crashing around the room in nearly visible waves.

"She loved me - and she had to go back. It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense. I tried to explain to her, and she, ah... she..."

Hayes broke down again.

Sherlock was down to his last nerve.

"Come on man, pull yourself together. Go on!"

Lestrade shot him a dirty look.

After some gulps and sniffles Hayes continued, "She was crying, and she ran out. I went after her - outside."

There was a long pause. Sherlock began pacing the room.

"OK, John, then what?" Sherlock finally asked.

"Tears running down her face... she just... walked away from me."

Hayes looked up into Sherlock's face and shut his mouth, his expression settling into lines of resigned despair.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and Sally Donovan poked her head in, and then retreated.

Sherlock and Lestrade started toward her, Lestrade pausing to put his hand on Hayes' shoulder and murmur, "Wait here."

They then met Sally outside the room for her update, Lestrade closing the door softly behind him.

"Find anything in his flat?" asked Sherlock impatiently.

"Nothing incriminating," she responded, "and we searched _thoroughly_," she added with a hint of defensiveness.

"He has a diamond engagement ring with a box that says Mutual Jewelers. He says he bought it last night. Check it out."

"Done," said Sally crisply.

Sherlock arched a brow at her uncharacteristic cooperativeness.

Sally sighed, "If he's lying, I want him caught. If he's innocent, I want him cleared. It's what we do, you know."

She stomped away.

Sherlock glared at Lestrade, who was smirking just a bit. They then went back into the interview room.

"After Mira walked away, what happened then, John?" asked Sherlock as he sat down across from Hayes.

Hayes took a deep breath, "I, er, I went out - like the genius I am - and got myself pissed. I never drink..."

He laughed bitterly, "Isn't that what you do when you're really feeling sorry for yourself? Get drunk? I mean really bloody plastered?"

"And that was the last time you saw Mira alive? Outside the flat? At the party?" broke in Sherlock.

Hayes was clearly shaken.

"The...last...time..." he stammered.

"How can it be the last time?" he turned his wounded blue gaze on Sherlock.

"It can't be the last time," the desperate denial was palpable.

Sherlock suddenly realized he was grinding his teeth. He unclenched his jaw and asked, "Did you go back to the party?"

"No, no I, er, went to the pub and started drinking."

"What time was that?"

"I don't know. I can't remember…. I don't know."

"Was it eleven, twelve?" Sherlock pressed.

"I don't know. I _really_ don't!" Hayes was starting to sound flustered.

"How did you get to the pub?"

"My scooter."

"Where is it now?"

Hayes shrugged, "Still at the pub?"

"What kind of a scooter was it?"

"125cc Cobra."

"Color?"

"Black."

"Plate?"

"Don't remember."

Lestrade shrugged, "We can look it up."

Sherlock continued, "How long were you at the pub?"

Hayes tried to concentrate, "Erm, I had several drinks... threw up... had more drinks... I don't know. I can't remember, I was... my head was spinning... I don't know! I can't remember!"

Lestrade held up his hand, "Easy. We'll put out a search for your scooter. We'll contact the pub to corroborate your story. I'm sure there must be witnesses there who will remember you and when you were there."

After a pause, Sherlock continued, "All right John, after the pub, where did you go then?"

"I don't remember. I blacked out - I just don't remember," Hayes said helplessly.

"Try, Mr. Hayes. I suggest you try to the utmost of your ability."

"I don't know! I remember being at the pub - and the next thing I remember is waking up in the park this morning and I don't know how I got there! I'm - I'm blank! Empty!"

"Then how can you be sure you didn't kill her?"

"I loved her! I wanted to marry her!"

Sherlock couldn't restrain the exasperated noise he made in response. Fortunately, a loud rapping on the door helped to mask it.

Lestrade opened the door and revealed a grim-faced Anderson. Sherlock and Lestrade once again slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

"I just thought you would want to know," said Anderson, "I was able to lift some footprints from the scene. They are of the same size shoe as the shoes found in Mr. Hayes' flat."

Sherlock was finding himself more disturbed by his reaction to this news than to any implications it had for the actual case. He quickly filed the disturbing sensations away for later examination, and refocused his attention to the matter at hand.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est - 5

_"I just thought you would want to know," said Anderson, "I was able to lift some footprints from the scene. They are of the same size shoe as the shoes found in Mr. Hayes' flat."_

_Sherlock was finding himself more disturbed by his reaction to this news than to any implications it had for the actual case. He quickly filed the disturbing sensations away for later examination, and refocused his attention to the matter at hand._

"Any exact match?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"No, unless they happen to match the shoes he has on right now," Anderson replied.

"Let me see the copy of the print," demanded Sherlock, holding out his hand.

Anderson handed it over with a sneer, after Lestrade nodded at him.

Sherlock immediately returned it, "This is the print of a trainer; he's wearing dress shoes."

Sally came hurrying up, "The jeweler confirms that a man matching Hayes' description used a card with his name to purchase a diamond ring at about 6:30pm last night."

"Good," said Lestrade, "head over to that pub Hayes said he went to - what was the name?"

"George and Dragon," supplied Sherlock.

"The George and Dragon," repeated Lestrade, "and find any witnesses that saw Hayes there last night. Be sure and make a note of when they say he arrived and when he left. Also - see if Hayes' scooter is still there, or has turned up elsewhere - a black 125cc Cobra."

"Got it," said Sally, jotting the information down.

"Bring any witnesses you find back here," commanded Sherlock.

Sally snapped her head up from her notes and glared at him, then Lestrade.

"Do it," affirmed Lestrade a bit wearily, "I promise nothing will come down on your head."

She rolled her eyes and stomped away with no further comment.

"Thank you, Donavan," Sherlock said dismissively, and swept back into the interview room. Lestrade followed after giving a somewhat more genuine expression of gratitude.

"All right, John," began Sherlock, "you've had some time. Can you recall anything else?"

The big man shook his head, "Nothing."

"Mira died at 23:40, that's just about the time when you 'black out.' That's pretty convenient, John."

"I can't remember - I was drunk!"

"That's convenient too."

"I couldn't kill her," Hayes insisted, leaning toward Sherlock for emphasis.

Sherlock flung himself down in a chair, idiot man was probably innocent, but was being spectacularly unhelpful.

Lestrade, seeing that Sherlock was dangerously close to storming off and leaving the whole mess in his lap, stepped forward.

"This is where you stand, John. You had an argument with Mira, that's motive. She was last seen with you, and you cannot account for your whereabouts at the time of her death, that's opportunity. There was a footprint found near her body, same size as yours. We need you to tell the truth!"

"I told you the truth," said Hayes miserably, "I don't remember. I just don't remember."

Lestrade glanced over at Sherlock, who merely waved irritably.

"Have you anything else to add to your statement?" asked Lestrade.

Hayes heaved a sigh and said, "Nothing else."

"Would you sign here to that effect, please?" asked Lestrade as he handed Hayes the form and a pen.

Sherlock groaned inwardly, he knew what was coming. Lestrade was no match for himself, but he was a good policeman in spite of his limitations.

Hayes began carefully signing his name while Lestrade watched with rising fascination and horror. When he was finished, Hayes looked up and saw the Inspector's stare.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're left-handed."

_Took you long enough, _Sherlock couldn't help thinking.

"Yeah, sure," shrugged Hayes.

"The man who choked Mira was left-handed."

There was a beat of silence before Lestrade continued.

"I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Mira Bai."

Sherlock stood up, "I can see my time is wasted here. Text any new developments."

With that, he strode out of the room and hurried back to Baker Street. He needed to spend some time alone with his violin to sooth the odd irritation that this case was causing him.

Several hours later Sherlock set his violin down and discovered that John had come home and was currently ensconced in his favorite chair with a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits. A quick glance confirmed that another mug had been placed on the coffee table. His gaze went back to John, as fragments and phrases from the interview with Hayes drifted through his mind.

"Sherlock, what on earth is the matter?"

"What? Nothing."

"You're looking at me with the oddest expression on your face."

"Hmmm? Oh, well, I was thinking of love, actually."

John's look of confusion deepened, "The movie? I didn't know you were aware of it, but, yeah, I've been told I look rather like -"

"Movie? No, LOVE John, _LOVE! _That mystical feeling that everyone bangs on about. The intense passion that can so easily go so very wrong, resulting in murder and mayhem."

"Oh. Well, why were you thinking about _that?_ And, more importantly, why were you looking at _me?_ Should I be concerned?" John was clearly making a joke.

"Only if you suddenly doubled in size and your surname was Hayes."

"I don't follow."

"Lestrade arrested the victim's boyfriend today. He looks rather like you, on a freakishly large scale. Although he currently has no alibi, he insists that his deep love for the victim would prevent him from ever harming her. A most idiotic defense, seeing that a substantial proportion of female murder victims are killed by an intimate partner."

"You think he's guilty, then?"

"I think I need to go back to the aquarium; it's a few hours until it closes. Will you come?"

"If you think it would be of help."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think so."

John felt a happy glow as he put on his jacket. Getting this sort of oblique compliment from Sherlock was always a pleasant surprise.

Once they arrived at the aquarium, Sherlock asked the person at the front desk if he could speak to the person currently in charge. This resulted in a rather tedious explanation, and phone calls to Lestrade to verify that Sherlock was making a legitimate request.

While they waited for everything to be verified, they were invited to wander the aquarium.

They both found themselves irresistibly drawn to the giant tank with the hammerhead sharks, behind which Mira's body had been found.

The gallery was mostly deserted, aside from themselves and a young woman with a small girl. Sherlock gave them a quick analysis, out of habit._Girl: five or six, with an au pair, clearly from a wealthy family. The au pair was obviously bored, playing her cell phone with one hand, as she clutched the little girl's hand with the other._

The au pair was of no interest, but the little girl was behaving, in his opinion, quite oddly. She was positively beaming at the tank, and nodding her head up and down enthusiastically. Sherlock knew that immature minds caused small children to behave strangely at times, but this was very puzzling. Was the girl developmentally challenged in some way?

Sherlock was so engrossed in watching the child that he jumped slightly when John spoke, "So what's bugging you, Sherlock?"

TBC...

A/N: So, the next chapter will include the encounter that Khorazir's drawing inspired in my brain, and which I found a way to weave into this crazy plot... In the meantime, I'd sure love to hear what you think of this chapter! :-)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This is so shamefully delayed! I offer my humblest apologies for the extreme tardiness of this update. The circumstances of my life have made it much more difficult for me to devote the time and energy I would like to my writing. I promise, I WILL finish this story. After that, I will go back to "Trouble with Harry" and finish that one. I just can't promise a timeline of when that will happen.

Beati Quorum Via Integra Est - 6

_The little girl was behaving, in his opinion, quite oddly. She was positively beaming at the tank, and nodding her head up and down enthusiastically. Sherlock knew that immature minds caused small children to behave strangely at times, but this was very puzzling. Was the girl developmentally challenged in some way?_

_Sherlock was so engrossed in watching the child that he jumped slightly when John __spoke__, "So what's bugging you, Sherlock?"_

"Hmmm?" Sherlock replied, still distracted.

"Mycroft is calling me," John said, pulling his cell phone from his jacket, "have you been ignoring his calls?"

"Don't answer it," snapped Sherlock, "he wants me to tell him facts that I don't yet have in my possession."

John nodded and put the phone back into his jacket, unanswered.

As they were talking, the little girl's attention had become fixated on Sherlock. She disentangled herself from her nanny and walked up to Sherlock a bit shyly, but clearly with a purpose. Both men watched her curiously. The nanny kept an eye on the child, but didn't attempt to interfere as she continued texting.

"Hello," said the child looking up at Sherlock, clearly a bit nervous, but also very determined.

_She has an agenda, clearly not mentally challenged. What could her motivation be to speak to a strange man?_ Sherlock found himself intrigued.

"Hello," he replied, "can I help you?"

"Are you a friend of Charlie's?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you a friend of Charlie's?" repeated the girl pointing at the tank.

The au pair interjected, "One of the sharks. We come here nearly every day to see him." There was just a hint of exasperation in her tone.

The girl continued, "Ms. Mira's been worried about his dirty water. Said she was going to bring a man to help her find out what's wrong. She's not here today, so maybe you came to help Charlie?"

Sherlock's mind palace was suddenly buzzing with theories and possibilities, but he was at somewhat of a loss as to how to mine the resource in front of him. Small children were definitely not his area, and he didn't want to frighten either the girl or her caretaker off. He cast a look of desperation at John. He was distinctly unnerved by John's answering grin. This was definitely going to be held over his head for quite some time.

John approached the au pair with a friendly smile, "Hi, I'm John and this is Sherlock."

He briefly shook her hand, then knelt in front of the girl and shook her hand as well, "Pleased to meet you. What's your name?"

"Polly," the girl replied shaking John's hand.

"That's lovely! Well Polly, Sherlock and I are here to help the aquarium in any way we can. What can you tell us about Ms. Mira and Charlie's dirty water?"

"Ms. Mira takes care of Charlie and feeds him and his friends. Lately, the water has been cloudy and Ms. Mira doesn't know why. Sometimes it's been so dirty it's hard to see Charlie do his tricks."

"Tricks?"

Polly beamed and ran up to the aquarium wall, nodding her head furiously. John and Sherlock watched, puzzled, until, incredibly, they saw one of the huge sharks begin nodding his own head up and down. Polly laughed with delight and turned back toward them.

"See!" she announced triumphantly.

Behind them, they could hear the au pair mutter something that sounded like, "Bloody thing."

"Incredible," breathed Sherlock, "I had no idea these things could learn tricks. Or is it just responding to visual stimulus?"

He began nodding his own head, seeing if he could draw the thing's attention. Sure enough, after a few seconds Charlie began swimming back and forth in front of Sherlock, nodding back enthusiastically.

Polly squealed with excitement.

"Look! Look!" she exclaimed, pulling on John in her excitement, "they're playing! Charlie likes him! Probably because they look alike!"

Sherlock turned and looked at Polly, startled, as did John. Then he looked up at Sherlock, glanced at Charlie, and then back to Sherlock as a grin began to spread over his face.

"Polly, you are a brilliant girl! Of course! That's why they like each other! Ha ha ha!"

John found himself unable to continue, dissolving into giggles.

Sherlock huffed in irritation; the au pair just looked confused while John and Polly continued laughing.

Fortunately for Sherlock, the aquarium director appeared and asked them back to her office.

John and Sherlock waved goodbye to Polly and her nanny, as they walked back through the aquarium to the director's office.

The director was a handsome woman in her early fifties, with slightly graying hair and looking a bit harassed and tired.

She waved John and Sherlock into seats and plopped down behind her large, cluttered desk.

"Sorry to have kept you two waiting, but I just had to make sure of your credentials. You see, I don't want the tabloids to smear our reputation, or Mira's for that matter. We were all terribly fond of her and we're completely devastated. If there's anything we can do to help... I understand her boyfriend is a suspect. Such a shame, he seemed like such a nice person and they were so devoted to each other..."

"Thank you," Sherlock broke in, "I think you could be a great help to us. Tell me, was Mira in charge of the hammerhead shark tank?"

"Well, she did a bit of everything, really. But she was especially interested in sharks, Charlie in particular. I saw that you got to see him do one of his little tricks."

"Yes," Sherlock replied, frowning at John who had begun to smile again, "I believe there had been a recent concern about the water quality in his tank?"

"Yes," replied the director, with a bit of surprise, "there were excessive levels of protein in the water which we could not account for; Mira was trying to solve the mystery. It was connected to her particular interest - solving pollution problems in the fisheries of Indonesia. She wanted to work on sustainable and healthy fishing practices when she returned after finishing her schooling here."

"Was anyone else working on that problem with her?"

"No, I told her I was going to let her handle it on her own. Give her a chance to problem-solve in the real world… experience for bigger problems later on."

"Was it common for her to be here alone late at night?"

"Oh yes; she loved the aquarium, she loved her work..." the director's voice began to shake. "I just can't believe this happened."

"Do you keep records of people who come and go? Do you have passcodes? A night watchman?"

The director shook her head, "No, we've always just had basic locks and keys. We've never needed anything else. By the time the last of the staff leave, it's only a few hours until the cleaning crew gets here. All the animals have different feeding schedules, so it's rare for the place to be completely empty more than an hour or two."

Sherlock paused a moment, then continued, "Scotland Yard found very large footprints near Mira's body. Is there anyone on your staff, probably a man, who stands over two meters and would be strong enough to strangle Mira with one hand?"

The director looked startled and said, "No, there's no one here that meets that description... Oh! Well, there is Benny, he's on the cleaning crew... but he wasn't here last night," she trailed off doubtfully.

"Can we get Benny's full name and address please?"

John was getting out his notebook.

"Er, yes, of course. But Benny wouldn't hurt Mira. He's a big guy, but extremely kind and gentle. He loves all the animals just like we do."

"Is he especially fond of Charlie?"

"Oh, of course! But, then, everyone is fond of Charlie."

TBC...

A/N: I will really, really try to make the next update in a more timely fashion...In the meantime, I'd love to know what you think of this chapter! :-)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: As always, a huge thank you to my patient and superb beta: Jarri Scythe. Huge apologies for such a long delay. RL has been, let us say, not conducive to my writing as of late.

Chapter 7

John followed Sherlock out of the aquarium and over to the street. Sherlock was scowling at the piece of paper with Benny's name and address given to him by the aquarium director. He finally shoved it in his pocket with a sigh and hailed a cab.

As John clambered in behind him, he was surprised to hear Sherlock tell the cabbie to take them home to Baker Street. John shot him a questioning look, but Sherlock was already busy texting something. Once he was done, Sherlock shoved the phone in his pocket and stared resolutely out the window. John knew from experience that he was in no mood to talk and asking questions would be useless.

Upon arrival, there was a familiar black car parked in front of 221, and Sherlock heaved an exasperated sigh. It seemed Mycroft had had enough of Sherlock's avoidance.

Sure enough, Mycroft emerged from the car and was on them before they got through the front door.

"Sherlock, you've been avoiding my calls."

"That's because I've had nothing to tell. For God's sake, if you're going to scold me at least wait until I'm inside and comfortable."

"By all means, Sherlock, let's all of us wait – the grieving family, the Indonesian government, her frightened friends – let's all wait for you to be comfortable."

By this time they were inside the flat, and Sherlock had taken off his coat and scarf. Tossing them aside, he immediately disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Mycroft and John in the sitting room.

"Erm, have a seat, Mycroft," John said, feeling awkward. He always hated it when he felt caught between the two of them.

"Thank you, John. It's nice to see you, though I wish it were under pleasanter circumstances."

"Yes, thanks. Er, would you like some tea?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Once John had gone into the kitchen, he heard Mycroft speaking loudly, meant to carry into Sherlock's bedroom.

"The Detective Inspector has arrested one John Hayes in connection to the crime. Is it your opinion that he is indeed the guilty party?"

Sherlock emerged from his bedroom, now wearing his dressing gown and pajama pants and clutching his violin.

"No," Sherlock replied, "I don't think he is the killer. I have located another suspect for investigation. I texted the details to Lestrade, and if he's worth half the faith you've put in him to be the official face of the case, he should be following up on it right now."

Mycroft frowned, "I thought I asked _you_ to head the investigation, Lestrade is there to represent the law, but he knows that I entrusted solving the case to you."

Sherlock waved his bow irritably, "I know, but I'm handing it over to Lestrade. This case is – no longer interesting."

"You agreed to take it as a favor to me. Interest, or lack thereof, was not a factor. My priorities are accuracy and speed, and I thought I could count on you for those."

John emerged from the kitchen with three mugs of tea. After handing out the other two to the brothers, he settled in his armchair to watch the verbal sparring.

After a pause, Sherlock sighed and said, "You may consider the bargain we made as cancelled. I've procured a second suspect. If he isn't the guilty one, I'll consider looking into it again. Until then… I no longer want to think about it."

Sherlock began tuning the violin.

Mycroft sipped his tea, staring at Sherlock, and looking perturbed.

Once Sherlock began actually playing, Mycroft set the mug aside and rose to his feet.

"Alright, Sherlock. I'll pursue this with the Detective Inspector. Will you give me the information you have on this second suspect you've uncovered?"

Sherlock set down the violin and dug the piece of paper from his pocket.

"His name and address. He works nights on the cleaning crew for the aquarium. The director describes him as physically fitting the profile of the killer. He was hired through a program to assist the developmentally disadvantaged obtain employment. The director was very insistent that he's a very gentle man who has a great love for animals and enjoys his work at the aquarium immensely."

"Oh!" Mycroft said with soft surprise, "Well… thank you for the information. I will look into it immediately. Thank you for the tea, John."

With that, he was gone, although John thought he heard him mumble something that sounded like "legwork" as he went out the door.

Once the door downstairs had opened and shut, John turned to Sherlock, who was staring pensively at the ceiling.

"Sherlock, are you alright? I've never known you to lose interest when given a new lead and new information, even when you didn't find it particularly challenging."

Sherlock frowned, and seemed to be at a loss for what to say.

"I don't know if I can explain it to you, John. I just – don't like this case. I don't foresee a satisfactory feeling in solving it."

"It was the murder of a young woman with a bright future, Sherlock. How could it be anything but tragic?"

Sherlock grimaced and plucked the strings on his violin.

"I've been… compromised, John. I don't want either of the suspects to be guilty."

John was startled. Sherlock had never confessed to having any opinion on parties involved in previous cases. The characters were nothing but puzzles to be unraveled and solved.

After a pause, John said, "I can understand why you might not like to think of Benny as a murderer, but why not John Hayes?"

Sherlock looked at him for a long moment, then closed his eyes as if in pain, "I don't know."

He then began playing a low, mournful tune on the violin, leaving John alone with his questions and speculations.

TBC….

A/N: I realize this is a really short chapter, especially given how long you've waited for it! However, it seemed like a good stopping point for the story. The next chapter should be the last. Thanks for reading! And, reactions are always treasured!


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